• Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Introduction
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Chapter 10
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
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    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
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mlewisredford

~ may the Supreme and Precious Jewel Bodhichitta take birth where it has not yet done so …

mlewisredford

Tag Archives: drum

south horizon

10 Friday Feb 2017

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

1959, 1967, 1979, 1993, 1999, 2011, 2012, 7*, abandonment, anger, Bowie, childhood, Dad, discovery, divorce, drum, evening, experience, horizon, light, London, Margaret Thatcher, memory, Mum, Nan, pain, parents, perspective, purple, rhythm, river, saxophone, shift, Shooters Hill, south, texture, Thames, travelling, words, world

                south horizon

                out on the river
                the purple is shifting

                but in the evening-bulb light
                the world-shaping words

                of grown ups
                is shifting uncontrollably

                but,          no; it’s OK          look
                there is rhythm, there is

                a saxophone, a hi-hat – shflpt –
                in the crack there

                where words sift
                where worlds shift

 

I submitted this to an online magazine; they didn’t want it; I’ll publish it here again with the copy that supported it:

about the poem: on my eighth birthday (in 1967) my Dad arrived home late from work; my parents had one of their last arguments; my Dad left home that night; I couldn’t remember much of what happened that night – what was said, how much I heard, how much I understood – but I realised that worlds could change quite quickly that night; years later, in 1993, David Bowie recorded ‘south horizon’ on his ‘Buddha of Suburbia’ album, but I didn’t really get to know the piece until 2011; hearing it etched that experience back into my memory – bevelled it up, almost – but it also supplied textures and chord changes to the memory that allowed me a perspective that held me from being just angry or hurt; (‘the river’ is the river Thames; we lived on Shooters Hill in SE London from where we could hear and breathe the river)

author bio: Mark Redford was born in 1959 and grew up in South East London until he bolted to university (like a bat out of hell) in 1979, hot from Margaret Thatcher’s election victory; London was never the same every time he returned back; his mother, who had brought him up with her mother (his Grandmother), died in 1999; since then he has travelled back to London frequently to find the previous 40 years, but only seems to find them when he writes down what he saw; you can see what he sees (possibly better than he can) at: https://mlewisredford.wordpress.com/; if you bump into him there, give him some directions would you?

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

abandonment wormhole: monument to vainglory
Bowie wormhole: new-found love – poewieview #36
childhood & Thames wormhole: that comicbookshop … // … in dreams
Dad & divorce & texture wormhole: beepbeep
evening wormhole: alighted
horozon wormhole: 1966
light wormhole: so pleased to see you again
London wormhole: 1967
Mum wormhole: 1967
Nan wormhole: work
purple & river wormhole: the silent night of the Batman
travelling wormhole: traffic lights and broad avenue
words wormhole: breathing out
world wormhole: Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters] – agricultural show

 

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… walking down the street

10 Monday Feb 2014

Posted by m lewis redford in poems, poeviews

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

1962, 1964, 2014, 6*, breath, Burt Bacharach, Dionne Warwick, drum, eyes, music, orchestra, piano, silence, streets, trumpet, walking, words

 

 

 

            … walking down the street

                           in the in take
                           of a single breath
                           for another word

                           a whole orchestra
                           swept from high to
                           low cascade  pause

                           silent word e c h o
                           recoup c l e a r
                           diction orchestra

                           ______ stops
                           cheep up an octave
            eyes reach up and over and a line of thoughts will complete the whole sentence

                           before the piano mute
                           and drum brush
                           complete

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

Bacharach & Dionne Warwick wormhole: To my Mum
breath wormhole: window open
eyes wormhole: t w e n t y f i r s t c e n t u r y l i f e
music wormhole: relief
piano wormhole: Michael Redford: // someone missing
silence & streets & walking wormhole: … still waving!
words wormhole: my current vague and pain

 

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two fat ladies / chk klak klip // all the while

04 Tuesday Dec 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

2012, 6*, drum, eating, expression, Haywards Heath, music, pink, portrait, sound, windows, writing

 

 

 

                                two fat ladies
                                chk klak klip

                on one half of the table
                                by the window
                two skinny lattes wait
                the folded newspapers
                                definitely wait
                while the scones are loaded
                                marg, no          butter
                                raspberry         bottom lip out
                                ‘pop’ blackberry jam ‘pop’
                                small pots dainty fingers
                                ser              vie              ettes
                sitting back the plates are held
                and looking down the road
                at something they chew

                in unison

                                –p0p–

                                all the while

                and after they have gone
                on the other half of the table
                                the student
                her shopping all done beside her
                reads the page of the booklet
                                then writes a paragraph
                                              pen flipped up big letters
                                pink highlight headings
                                pen replaced plap
                satisfaction while the café music
                                snare drums
                                and never reaches
                                the chorus

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

Haywards Heath wormhole: the end
music wormhole: the spectre
pink wormhole: celebrate
sound wormhole: duck calls
windows wormhole: Batman 168
writing wormhole: “write, let’s break / outta here!”

 

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one mirror

08 Thursday Mar 2012

Posted by m lewis redford in poems

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

'scape, 1981, 2*, blue, drum, eyes, green, guitar, hair, mauve, mirror, orange, portrait, sand, snow, trees, white, wood

 

 

 

                     eyes are blue
                     often they are drums
                     and they sweat like hair
                     with cannonballs

                     one mirror
                     one guitar strumming
                     green hand-waves
                     one world on a fingernail
                     cracked and orange

                     the last time a tree played the sand
                     was when my foot accidently cried
                     into three pieces of icing and snow

                     the fall was gentle and mauve
                     the pattern was wooden static and beating

 

 

 

————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–

blue wormhole: ‘the blue wall …’
eyes wormhole: marketsquarefight
green & guitar wormhole: ‘the run of …’
mauve wormhole: ‘across the street …’
orange wormhole: grain
snow wormhole: biography
trees wormhole: grasses
white wormhole: condensation
wood wormhole: green wine

 

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… Mark; remember …

"... the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful; it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe to find ashes." ~ Annie Dillard

pages coagulating like yogurt

  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara
    • Chapter 1
    • Chapter 10
    • Chapter 2
    • Chapter 3
    • Chapter 4
    • Chapter 5
    • Chapter 6
    • Chapter 7
    • Chapter 8
    • Chapter 9
    • Introduction
  • collected works
    • 25th August 1981 – count Up
    • askance From Hell
    • Batman
    • Bob 1995-2012
    • David Bowie Movements in Suite Major
    • Edward Hopper: Poems at an Exhibition
    • Eglinton Hill
    • FLOORBOARDS
    • Granada
    • in and out / the Avebury stones / can’t seem to get / a signal …
    • Lapping Reflections [Deep Within Waters]
    • Miller’s Batman
    • mum
    • nan
    • Portsmouth – Southsea
    • Spring Warwick breezes / over Bacharach fieldwork and boroughs with / the occasional shift and chirp of David / in the pastel-long morning of the sixties
    • The Boats of Vallisneria by Michael J. Redford
    • through the crash
  • index
    • #A-E see!
    • F–K, wha’ th’
    • L-P 33 1/3 rpm
    • Q-T pie
    • U-Z together forever
  • me
  • others
  • poemics
  • poeviews
  • teaching matters
  • William Carlos Williams
  • wormholes

recent leaks …

  • under the blue and blue sky
  • sweet chestnut
  • ‘she shook the sweets …’
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • meanwhile
  • a far grander / Sangha
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 8; reflectionary
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 7; reflectionary
  • Bodhisattvacharyavatara: Chapter VII, Joyous Effort – verse 6; reflectionary & verses 3-6 embroidery
  • silence

Uncanny Tops

  • Moebius strip
  • me
  • YOUNG WOMAN AT A WINDOW by William Carlos Williams
  • 'I can write ...'
  • like butterflies on / buddleia
  • covert being
  • 'hello old friend ...'
  • meanwhile
  • To my Mum
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